Circles of Mushrooms
by Gwynhafara
Summary: This is mostly because I was currious as to what Ellebere was doing before his appearence in Ironside. Set before Tithe. NOW WITH NEW AND IMPROVED CHAPTER 3!
1. Chapter 1

1**A/N: The ballad "Tam Lin" was quoted in the front of **_**Tithe**_**. While I quote the same ballad, I quote a different version, because I like this one better. (I think it's older.)**

**When I was little, like 8-ish, I lived in a haunted house. Behind the house were four Faerie Circles, you know, those circles of mushrooms. Just so you know where my random inspiration came from.**

**And duh: I do not own any characters from **_**Tithe **_**or**_** Ironside**_**. They belong to Holly Black. The lines from the ballad "Tam Lin" are traditional and belong to no one. **

California:

It seemed Emelda spent most of her life telling her brother not to eat the mushrooms. She had gladly turned him over to the babysitter minutes ago and was currently lying on the softer, greener grass inside of the circle. She had been told not to, but after all, it wasn't as if _she _was going to eat them, what could possibly happen? Right?

Unseelie Court, New Jersey:

The Dark Lady was very angry. As Ellebere pushed his way to the great hall, past the other, wiser fey who were practically running in the other direction, he wondered what had gotten under his Lady's skin this time. Usually, she just ordered the death of whomever was annoying her. Sometimes, she came up with creative ways to torment them. Either way, she _never _visibly lost her temper. She was the queen of the Unseelie court, she was made of ice.

The nearer he got to the Hall, the less people he encountered in the halls. When he reached his destination, the Hall was empty, except for the queen. She had summoned all her knights, but he was the first to arrive. He bowed before the throne, refusing to follow the ridiculous protocol of kissing the queen's hem unless expressly forced to do so. Tonight the Lady was in no mood to press the point.

"Go find who is singing that! I want them torn limb from limb! I want them flayed alive!" Ellebere had never heard his Lady shout before. He struggled to keep from laughing.

"Singing, My Lady? But we are the only ones present," He made as show of turning about, as if to make sure there was no one else in the Hall. "And I assure you that _I_ am not singing." Nicnevin scowled.

"Can you not hear it! It is as clear as Kirk bells on a Sunday morn." She sighed. "And as objectionable, too."

Ellebere tilted his head, listening. Ah. He heard it now. The very soft sound of singing.

"_Lady Margaret, Lady Margaret, sewing of her seam,_

_And she's all dressed in black,"_

Oh Dear, no wonder the Lady was angry.

"_When a thought comes to her head she'd run into the woods,_

_Pick flowers to flower her hat, m'boys, _

_Pick flowers to flower her hat." _

Their little visitor was singing Tam Lin.

"My Lady, the singer sounds quite young, do you truly want her flayed alive?" The queen seemed to calm down.

"No, bring her here. We shall determine where she is from and what she is up to, and _then_ we shall flay her alive."

Ellebere bowed again. "As My Lady wishes."

As he left the hall, he past Roiben, just arriving to answer the queen's summons. Roiben raised an eyebrow, trying to silently ask what awaited him. Ellebere shrugged and with his finger drew a circle near his temple. As he entered, Roiben couldn't supprese a smile. Of course Nicnevin was crazy, he already _knew _that.


	2. Chapter 2

1Emelda squinted at the pages of her book. It was hard to read, she decided that the problem was that it was getting dark and that she should go inside and use the miracle of incandescent light. She looked up.

And realized that she didn't recognize her surroundings. The California palms had been replaced by marble headstones. She stood and stepped out of her circle of mushrooms, scowling at it.

"I guess that's why they told me to stay away from the mushrooms." Emelda walked around the hill, and found no one. She sat down between a head stone marked "Adelaide" and her mushrooms. Not knowing what else to do, she began to sing. It was an old song, one which she had known as long as she lived.

_And she's hoisted up her petticoats, _

_A bit above her knee,_

_And so nimbly she's run over the plain,_

_And when she comes to the merry green woods,_

_She's tore them branches down, down,_

_She's tore them branches down._

The singing became much clearer as Ellebere paced along the tunnel to the surface. When he emerged, he saw a young girl sitting with her back to him, singing. She was about thirteen, skinny with a black t-shirt and grass stains on her knees. Unusually for her age, her long brown hair was held back tightly in a neat bun. Ellebere paused to listen to her sing for a moment, marveling at her audacity to sing "Tam Lin" so close to the court. He dismissed the thought that she didn't know about the fey folk, because anyone who was raised on the story of Tam Lin and Lady Margaret had to know about the fey.

_Then she spied a bright young man,_

_Stood underneath the tree,_

_Saying, "How dare ye pull these branches down,_

_Without the leave of me, Lady?_

_Without the leave of me?"_

Emelda jumped when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up at a pale man with red hair and red eyes dressed in black armor. "You know," He said, "That isn't a safe song to be singing around here." Emelda squinted at him.

"And where is here exactly?" She asked. Ellebere sighed and sat down in the grass beside her.

"New Jersey." Emelda could hear the disgust in his voice. She laughed.

"And pray, why shouldn't I be singing 'Tam Lin' in New Jersey?" Her visitor pointed at the dying patch of grass beside "Adelaide's" marker.

"You're annoying the queen." Emelda looked at him critically.

"Bright or Dark?" Ellebere was stunned. Why would a teenage American have any knowledge of the Courts?

"I'm from Scotland," Emelda answered his unanswered question. "Bright or Dark? Although, judging from the surroundings, I'm going to guess dark." Ellebere nodded.

"Welcome to the Unseelie Court. Lady Nicnevin wants to have you flayed alive. I'd rather not see that." He wrinkled his nose in disgust. There was an audible pop as Emelda cracked her knuckles. Ellebere grabbed her wrist and frowned at the caluses across the back of her knuckles.

"You fight?" he asked. Emelda nodded, grinning.

"Tung su do karate."

"Hm..." Ellebere felt an idea forming. His squire had been killed during a tournament a couple of months ago, the girl could replace him. It would be an excellent place to hide her from the wrath of Lady Nicnevin.

"So," He opened his proposal, "I'm guessing that you got here through that faerie circle." He said, nodding at the mushrooms. Emelda opened her mouth to speak, and Ellebere held up a hand to quiet her. "And you wouldn't have fallen through it if you hadn't wanted to leave where ever you were, so I'm also guessing that you don't want to go back." Emelda nodded. Ellebere smiled. "Well, in that case, how would you like to be my squire?" Emelda thought. She was over 3000 miles away from home, and, upon reflection, she didn't really want to go home. She could fight already, being a squire sounded like a good deal.

"All right, Sir Knight, you've got yourself a squire. I'm called Emelda, by the way, friends call me Em." She held out her hand. Ellebere was glad that she already knew enough not to give her full name, or to ask anyone else's. "You can call me Ellebere. Or just sir in front of the rest of the gentry." They entered the hill.


	3. Chapter 3

1Roiben propped open a battered copy of _Paradise Lost_ and began to read. Since Ellebere was already dealing with what ever the crisis had been, Nicnevin had dismissed the rest of her knights. His reading was interrupted by a loud knocking on his door, which opened before he even had a chance to get up. Ellebere pushed a dark haired girl inside.

"Emelda, this is Roiben, Roiben, meet Emelda, hide her for a few minutes, please, thanks." The door slammed shut again, before Emelda, or Roiben had a chance to object. They stared at each other in shock for a few moments.

"What the Hell is Ellebere thinking, bringing a mortal girl under the hill?" Roiben asked, beginning to pace. "What is he trying to do, get you killed?"

"Actually," Emelda interjected, "I think that's what he was trying to prevent from happening."

"Well, he's likely to get himself killed at any rate." Roiben collapsed into a chair and looked sideways at Emelda. "I assume that you caused whatever fuss Nicnevin was shouting about?"

Emelda shrugged.

"I was sitting in a graveyard singing 'Tam Lin'. I suppose that might make a queen of the fey a little angry." Roiben couldn't help it, he had to laugh at that, it was the most understated statement he had ever heard.

"A little angry? Reminding the queen of her greatest failure would make her more than a little angry." Roiben put his head in his hands. "'I should have torn out your eyes, Tam Lin, and put in two eyes of wood.'" He quoted.

Ellebere stood before the queen, wondering what would be his punishment for failing to capture the singer.

"Where is our little balladeer?" Ellebere was hard pressed to keep from flinching. He couldn't lie. And this was one of the times he really wished he could.

"I assure you, her parents will be grieving for her tonight." Nicnevin frowned at him.

"I may be mistaken, but I do believe I instructed you to bring her here."

"My lady, she wasn't part of any grander scheme. I thought it best to deal with her, without wasting Your Majesty's valuable time." Nicnevin smiled slightly.

"A pretty answer, my knight. However, She was going to be our entertainment tonight." Nicnevin sighed dramatically. "I suppose you will have to do instead."

Ellebere imagined that this was what drowning must feel like, watching the waves closing over your head, waiting for the inevitable pain of inhaled salt water, and knowing that there is nothing you can do to stop it.

After he left the Hall, finally released, Ellebere paused for a moment to lean against the wall. His hands were shaking. _Thorn and Ash. _ He wanted to close his eyes, but was afraid that would result in him ending up in a heap on the floor, and that would not be a good place to be. Gods, he hurt. Attempting to steady himself, he took several deep breaths, hoping that increased oxygen would better his chances of staying conscious. Collecting himself, he went to see how Emelda and Roiben were faring. He hoped they weren't tearing each other to pieces. He had seen the look on Emelda's face when he left her with out a word of explanation, and guessed at the explosive temper behind her conservative exterior.

Ellebere didn't know what he was expecting when he opened Roiben's door but it definitely wasn't what he found. Both Roiben and Emelda were reading, Roiben sitting at his table and Emelda lying on her stomach across the bed. Apparently, he needn't have worried about them.

"Come on, Em," He said, trying to sound light hearted, or at least normal. "I'll show you where you are going to be staying." Emelda stood, yawned, and handed he book back to Roiben with a smile.

"Thanks." Roiben nodded in reply, but frowned when he noticed the stiffness of Ellebere's movements and the way he wavered on his feet.

"Are you all right?" he asked. Ellebere forced a smile.

"It's nothing, I'll be fine." Roiben scowled at him over Emelda's head. Ellebere shrugged, then regretted it. "Come on." He said again to Emelda, and they left.

They followed the twisted corridors of the palace to Ellebere's quarters. They were similar to Roiben's, but without the books. Instead, Ellebere collected art. The walls were hung with paintings, mostly pre-Raphelite. Emelda smiled when she noticed a print of her favorite painting, Symphony in White. Still admiring the walls, she barely registred Ellebere's voice when he told her he was going to have a room prepared for her. She was startled out of her reverie by his return.

"Your room is next door, to the left. It's plain, but it should be comfortable enough. I'll put a glamour on you tomorrow. No one will notice, I hope." Ellebere collapsed face down on his bed. Emelda gasped. Staining Ellebere's green shirt were stripes of blood.

"She...she whipped you." Emelda stuttered. "For protecting me." Emelda wanted to cry.

"Hmm?" Ellebere had been letting his mind wander. "Yes, I suppose she did." He rolled onto his side to look at her, wincing as he did so. "It's not your fault, dear. Besides, I'll recover from this. You would have had considerably more difficulty recovering from being dead."

Em pursed her lips. "Is there any thing I can do?" Ellebere sighed.

"These really should be cleaned. There's a jar of antiseptic on the shelf over there, it's the green one." Emelda went to fetch it. Ellebere bit his lip as he peeled of his shirt. The fabric had already stuck to the wounds. He stretched out again, and Em giggled at the way he wrinkled his nose as she dabbed the salve on his wounds.

"What?" He exclaimed. "It stings." Emelda worked in silence for several minutes before asking, "So, what happens tomorrow?" But Ellebere didn't respond. He had finally succumbed to the succor of unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

1Em woke the next morning to a loud knocking at her door. She threw a pillow at the door and rolled over to try to go back to sleep. Ellebere entered anyway, shining a light in her eyes.

"Rise and shine."

Em groaned. "What, are we going to be late for an important breakfast meeting or something?" She thought Ellebere was being far to cheerful for first thing in the morning.

"No," He said, "Training first, breakfast later." Em sat up to glare at him. Ellebere laughed. "If you want to be my squire, you are going to have to improve your fighting skills." She sat up and pulled her hair back with one hand.

"Shoo, If you want me to show up for training, then you have to leave so I can get dressed." Ellebere didn't shoo. She looked up at him. "How's your back?" She asked. Ellebere rolled his shoulders.

"I'm a little stiff, but I'll be fine. I heal quickly." He sighed. "I'll be out side."

Ellebere hadn't been kidding when he said her room was plain. It contained a bed, a chest, and a mirror. She dug through the chest, coming up with a black t-shirt and a pair of dark brown pants. Her tennis shoes had disappeared, replaced by soft soled leather boots. She rolled her eyes. "Interfering faeries." She muttered under her breath. She raised her voice. "If anyone's listening, I'd really appreciate it if y'all wouldn't touch my stuff. For crying out loud, the tennis shoes were more practical."

"We were only trying to help." Said a soft voice from behind her. She whipped around to find the speaker, but there was no one there.

Ten minutes later, she found her self facing off against Ellebere in a windswept meadow. She wasn't really sure where they were, having simply left the hill through another tunnel, but she doubted they were in New Jersey.

Ellebere tossed her a staff. "Let's see what you can do before I give you any pointers." He swung his own staff experimentally. Em smirked. He didn't know that she already knew how to use a staff. She closed her eyes, running through the first pattern drill in her head. _High block, low block, Strike..._ The wind was distracting, she had never practiced outside before. _Mid block, duck..._

When she finished the pattern and opened her eyes, Ellebere was looking at her oddly.

"You okay?" Em grinned.

"I'm fine, you ready?" Ellebere nodded, then attacked, hoping to catch her by surprise. Em blocked high and quickly reversed the swing, striking low. Ellebere's knee buckled but he didn't fall. As she shifted for another swing, Ellebere used the opening she had left and struck under her elbow, raping her sharply in the ribs. Emelda doubled over, crouching down at the same time to avoid a high swing. She returned with a barage of attacks, most low, which Ellebere blocked easily. Pressing hard, she forced him to retreat across the field. At the same instant, Emelda took a high swing and Ellebere tripped over a root, missing the block. He landed flat on his back in the grass, the tip of Emelda's staff at her throat. She backed off and let him sit up. Ellebere gingerly touched his split lip.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" Emelda opened her mouth to speak, and thunder rolled across the sky. The wind picked up, blowing the leaves about. Ellebere shook his head and grabed Emelda's arm, dragging her back under the hill.


End file.
